


i bet santa gets five bars

by mixtapestar



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixtapestar/pseuds/mixtapestar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy and Clint work out spending their first Christmas together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i bet santa gets five bars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LariaGwyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LariaGwyn/gifts).



> For Laria, who prompted this over a year ago. Better late than never? :) Written before Thor: The Dark World came out, so no spoilers there. Unbeta'd, any mistakes are entirely my own.

"So I need to talk to you about Christmas," Clint says when Darcy answers her phone, skipping right past the 'hello my beautiful girlfriend' and 'you are the light of my life' that Darcy deserves.

"Hey, after ditching out on Thanksgiving, you _owe_ me," Darcy reminds him.

"I didn't _ditch out_ on Thanksgiving," Clint says, his voice distorted. Darcy sighs and moves toward the window. She really needs a new phone. "There was that robotic crab thing that I think you'll remember took out a good portion of Detroit."

"Whatever," Darcy says with a roll of her eyes. "You still owe me. My parents were devastated."

"You told me your Dad was overjoyed."

"Because he got a bigger piece of pecan pie. He still wants to meet you, so don't think you're getting out of this."

Clint chuckles softly, and Darcy suddenly finds herself wishing he were here. "I'm not trying to, trust me. I just have a minor..." and then Darcy only gets about half of the rest of the sentence.

"Head jew what mint?" she asks, taking her best guess at what Clint's saying.

" _Schedule adjustment_ ," Clint repeats, and oh, that makes more sense.

"If you have to miss the grand huge deal that is me walking across the stage for a diploma that I won't even _really_ get until three weeks later, I really could not give less of a shit. Just be here for Christmas."

Clint is silent for a second, though Darcy's phone could've cut out. She checks the screen but no, still connected. "Darcy," he finally says, sounding exasperated, "I'm coming to your graduation."

She scoffs. "It's going to be boring as hell. I don't even wanna go, I dunno why you'd want to."

"Look, if it helps it go by faster, I'll take you out for pancakes after."

"Ooh, celebratory pancakes!" Darcy says, the IHOP promotional image already stamped behind her eyelids. Dammit, now she's hungry. "So what's the 'schedule adjustment' then?"

"I have to take a day trip to Vegas on the 23rd to do something for S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Oh, right. 'Something for S.H.I.E.L.D.' Is this one of those happens in Vegas stays in Vegas type things? If you see a stripper, I expect a live video feed so I too can enjoy the show."

"As much as I am very much down for what was just described, I don't actually intend to see any strippers. But I wanted to know if you'd come with me."

"Come with you."

"Yes."

"To Vegas."

"That's the one."

"All expenses paid?"

"Well," Clint wavers, "travel and meals. But I know you have traditions with your family, so I understand if you don't think you can--"

"Fuck the traditions, we're goin' to Vegas, baby!"

******

Darcy is busy losing her meager spending money at slots when she's approached by some skeevy guy in a suit. She immediately dubs him Skeeve.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Skeeve asks, leaning against her machine.

Darcy plunks in another quarter as if she's not down to her last dollar. "I have a boyfriend," she says without looking up.

"Hmm," Skeeve says, looking around. "Blond, cocky expression, preference for purple?"

Darcy fights the impulse to look up. Clint isn't in here; he's making the drop. Which means this guy has been watching them.

"Sounds like a douchebag," she says, shooting Skeeve an unimpressed look. "Bartender's mine," she says instead, tilting her glass in the direction of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Clint had insisted on planting behind the bar. She's starting to feel a little guilty about arguing over it. "He's 6'2" and has a jealousy thing, so you might wanna back off."

She also has some fresh pepper spray in her purse that she's dying to try out, but Bartender Agent looks affectively menacing, and Skeeve straightens up. "Whatever," he says, and like he's straight out of a cheesy movie, he tacks on, "don't know what you're missing."

She wins five more dollars on her next to last quarter, and uses the pretense of celebrating her win to pull out her phone and text Bartender Agent. (She knows his real name is Ronald, but that's boring, so she's come up with her own.)

_skeevy dude in the hat is part of this somehow._

_I'll take care of it_ , comes the answering text.

When Clint gets back down to the casino, he's got a busted lip and a fresh slice across his cheek. Darcy sighs and fishes the band-aids out of her purse.

She pretends not to be worried that the whole thing is going to collapse in on them, but she can't quite hold in her sigh of relief when Bartender Agent gives the all-clear.

"You were worried about me," Clint teases, elbowing her in the side.

"Oh yeah, clearly there was nothing to worry about," she says, sliding her thumb over the edge of his band-aid. She tells him about Skeeve and watches his jaw clench, but the hard look melts away to smugness when she admits he was right about her protective detail.

"You totally handled it though," Clint says, wrapping an arm around her waist possessively. "I'm proud of you."

"It really wasn't that big a deal," she says, rolling her eyes as they reach the doors. She shivers slightly as they step outside and, half a second later, exclaims, "Oh my god, it's snowing!"

Clint looks just as surprised as she does, but not nearly as excited. She shimmies out of his grip so that she can skip down the sidewalk, watching flakes land and melt in her hair.

She skips back to find Clint typing on his phone frantically. "What the hell are you doing?" Darcy asks, accusatory. "This is amazing! You're missing it!"

"I'm making sure this isn't some, like, alien phenomenon," Clint answers, raising his eyebrows at the reply he receives. "Huh."

"Well?" Darcy prompts when he isn't immediately forthcoming. She's glad for a second she resisted the impulse to stick out her tongue and catch the snowflakes.

"Sorry, just a creative new insult from Agent Coulson. Apparently the snow is all 'above-board.'" And with that, he pockets his phone and lifts her up, spinning them both around.

Darcy beams. "What do you think, can we get up on the roof?"

******

They can, as it turns out, get up on the roof, they just have to traipse up several flights of stairs to do it.

"This would be so much easier if I were Iron Man," Clint grumbles, and Darcy has to laugh.

"True for a lot of things, I think, and I'm totally telling him you said that."

Clint swipes at her hair ineffectually, feigning annoyance. "We'd already be up there if you'd let me use my grappling hook."

"The last time you tried that, you got arrested. I'm not spending Christmas Eve in a Vegas jail cell."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Clint asks, grinning, as they reach the top of the stairs.

"I'm dating you, aren't I?" Darcy snarks and then pushes the door open to the roof to avoid his response, laughing.

It's gorgeous. The snow is still falling just steadily enough to be noticeable, melting fairly quickly as it lands. Darcy leans safely over one of the protective walls to see people coming outside and discovering the snow for the first time, much like she did. When she tilts her head up to feel the snow landing in tiny pinpoints over her face, she hears the obvious noise of a cell phone camera going off.

"Really?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at Clint. He shrugs unapologetically and shows her the picture. "Not too bad. What's this phone?" she asks, noticing it's different from the obnoxious purple thing he usually carries around.

"That would be your Christmas gift. Surprise!" he says, complete with jazz hands.

"Shut up, you got me a phone?!" she says, incredulous, and immediately starts messing with the settings.

"Technically Stark hooked us up, but yeah," Clint admits. "I just thought it'd help, you know. Since we don't get to hang out in person much these days."

"Right. About that," she says, slipping the phone into her pocket and looking up just in time to see the color drain from Clint's face. "What?" she says, shooting a panicked look around and expecting to see a drone of some sort just behind her. When she realizes the coast is clear, it dawns on her, "Oh, no, jesus. It's good news, I swear. I just… I applied to NYU for grad school."

The shell-shocked look on Clint's face shifts to a dumbfounded one. "You did what?"

"I got in," she finishes in a rush of breath.

"Oh my _god_ ," Clint says, a smile breaking out over his face as he rushes to grab her. She yelps as he spins her around a little _too_ close to the edge of the roof, but she laughs along with him.

"This doesn't mean I'm giving the phone back," she says after he sets her down safely.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he says, grinning cheekily. "You do know how dangerous New York City is, though, right? You're going to need a protective detail practically 24/7."

"What," she says flatly. "Clint, please don't tell me we have to have this discussion--"

"Yeah," he interrupts, his grin widening, "like some handsome S.H.I.E.L.D. agent should totally hang around your dorm all the time, you know, just in case of emergency."

She sees where he's going with that and rolls her eyes with a huff. "Sure, I'll just go ahead and text Agent Coulson to see if he's available."

"Very funny," he says as he tugs Darcy close, the snow still falling around them. His kiss is sweet, far sweeter than she's accustomed to before any of their usual proclivities. After, sure, but never before.

"Are you having feelings over there?" she accuses, poking him in the side.

"Ow, shut up," he says, swatting her hands away playfully. "You only know because you totally have them too."

"Yeah, well maybe I do," she says, bracing her arms on his shoulders so that he can pick her up and quickly chasing that action with another kiss. The sweetness turns heated before too long, and she leans back in his arms, grinning wickedly. "Wanna add 'casino rooftop' to our list?"

"It's like you just _get_ me," Clint says, mirroring her expression. And yeah, she really does.

THE END


End file.
